


cold as a witch's caress

by theantepenultimateriddle



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Death, F/F, don't be fooled by the beginning ;D, harold they're polyamorous lesbians, i wrote some of this a while ago and I'm just getting around to writing the rest, i'm gonna FUCK THEM UP, magic shop running AU!, more tags to be added later, some gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:49:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theantepenultimateriddle/pseuds/theantepenultimateriddle
Summary: It’s 3 am before you finally turn out the light, but as you do, you see something moving outside the window. Two person-shaped shadows, talking in the darkness. As you watch, one of them lights a cigarette. In the flash of flame, you clearly see black hair tied in a bun and a bored face. It’s Damara. You can’t see who the other person is, but they leave quickly.---Necromancy is technically illegal, and tons of people still do it. But that’s only on entities below a certain self-awareness level. Once you get past that point- trying to bring back people- it becomes much more difficult and extremely taboo, because whoever you’re trying to bring back will turn out wrong. Come back empty, live but without their souls, like the result of a magical frontal lobotomy. And when they don’t, they come back with... other damages.---You wish you could go backwards or forwards to a time when you’re not being persecuted, leave this whole mess behind and go where you’ll never be found. But with all the dampening charms and magical inhibitors they’ve placed on you it’s an impossibility. You guess you should be flattered they think you’re so dangerous, though. Ironically, it’s the most respect you’ve ever gotten.





	1. Jade

You’re absolutely sure that your magic store is the best in your town, which isn’t saying much, seeing as it’s a very small town and you and Feferi run the only magic store in it. But even if the town was way bigger and more impressive, and even if there were competitors around, you know that your store would still be the best. It’s just so comfortable! There’s nothing better than a business run by people who know how to make others relax. Besides, you know with complete certainty that you and Fef are the best witches around, hands-down.

Today, though, business is slow. There’s even nobody in the little café/reading corner that Feferi set up, which is weird, because usually at least Roxy shows up to work on her wizard novel. The only person in the store is your boarder, Damara, who is browsing the shelves of wands and laughing a little to herself. “What’s funny?” you ask. She turns to you, a nasty smirk on her rust-red lips.

“Magic in these is so weak. Better off as trash or kindling.”

You sigh, sorry you asked. Damara’s a witch, too, but you’ve never seen her use her powers for anything but seduction (which comes easily to her, being the daughter of a succubus) and being a nuisance. Even though, to be perfectly honest, she does that perfectly well without magic, as she’s just proved to you yet again. Sometimes you wonder why Fef lets her stay. “Damara, not everyone is gifted. Sometimes people need wands with a lower power ratio, and that’s fine! Jeez, don’t be so judgmental.”

Damara snorts. “You and fish girl should tell weak magic people to fuck off.”

Arguing with Damara is useless, you know that, but you open your mouth to do it anyways. You can’t help it! She just gets on your nerves so much. But right as you’re about to tell her that “weak magic people” make up about 90% of your return clients and telling them to fuck off would lower your profits and make her pay a higher rent, Feferi bustles in from the back, arms full of protection amulets and runestones, long dark hair waving like the tentacles of the cuttlefish she loves so much. “Hey guys! Jade, mind helping me with these? We need to refill the bargain bins out front.” You nod, and with a flick of your wrist take the baubles from her with your powers. Technically she could do it as well, but she’s not very good at spatial manipulation. You each tend to focus on different areas of magic- you’re good with growing, shrinking, and moving objects (and people, on occasion). She’s better with living things, healing, that sort of stuff. You think she could have been a doctor if she wanted, but at the same time you thank god she doesn’t. Without her, there wouldn’t even be a shop!

Carefully, you levitate everything out the door, keeping an eye on all the things so that they don’t fall, or worse, go shooting out of control. You sort them, place them in their respective bins, and then release your concentration. Fef claps when you’re done. “Nice one, Jade!” You give a little curtsy.

“Anything to help someone as kind as yourself!” Fef blushes, and you give her a smile. You’ve been toying with the idea of asking her out for a while now- she’s cute! And besides, you’re already living together in the apartment above the shop, so how different could it be? There’s only the little problem of…

Damara, witnessing this exchange, leans back against a wall and groans loudly. “Keep your flirting away from me. Don’t want to drown in sickeningly sweet bullshit. It would be an embarrassing death.”

“Damara!” you say loudly, mortified. “Quit it!”

“Hmm…” she says, tapping a long, red-painted nail to her chin. “No.”

You execute a perfect 2x facepalm combo, and right then, as luck would have it, the bell over the door jingles. You look up eagerly, then sigh. It’s Eridan again.

Eridan Ampora has been a customer of your magic shop since the beginning. He buys wands. He buys an absolute fuckton of wands, all highpowered, all dangerous. You don’t know if he hoards them or just breaks them constantly, but he’s in here at least three times a week buying a new wand. You’ve tried asking in a friendly way why he needs them (you’re concerned, and who could blame you?), but he always just scowls at you and tells you to “quit snooping, Harley” in his dumb wavy accent. Honestly, you’re just glad he doesn’t try and flirt with you or Feferi anymore. That’s probably the one good thing Damara has ever done for you- trying to strangle him with his stupid hipster scarf was probably the best possible way to handle that situation.

“Hey, Fef,” he says, greeting Feferi and giving you a nod. He then immediately goes over to the wand shelf to browse, ignoring Damara (though you notice that when she gives him a fingertips-only wave he flinches). Today, same as always, he’s wearing the blue and purple striped scarf. Sometimes you don’t think the incident made enough of an impression on him.

Eridan browses, and browses, and browses, and eventually you lose interest in watching him because you know that he can do this alone for hours. Feferi goes into the back again, still trying to complete the daunting task of taking inventory of all your items, and Damara eventually goes into the reading corner to sprawl provocatively across one of the armchairs and sleep (which you have no idea how she does, because that looks horribly uncomfortable). It’s a slow day at the shop, you’re playing cashier with no one buying, and you’re bored. Who could blame you? So it’s perfectly understandable when your eyelids begin to droop. Perfectly understandable when you start yawning. And, eventually, it’s understandable when you fall asleep.

The screaming wakes you up.

* * *

 

Your ears are a bit more sensitive than most, mostly as the result of your unusual condition. But you don’t even need superior hearing to notice the absolute cacophony surrounding you. You startle awake, accidentally nudging the cash register off the counter and adding a crash and a feeble “ding!” to the din. Looking around the store frantically, you immediately notice several fires in the immediate vicinity of Eridan Ampora (the source of quite a lot of the screaming), Damara attempting to strangle a person you can’t quite see clearly and Feferi trying to get her to stop (the source of the rest of it), and your friend and customer Jane Crocker standing in the doorway, looking confused and more than a bit worried. You sigh. You hadn’t expected the calamity you’d seen in your scrying to happen for _days._ Then you duck down behind the counter, rummage around for a little bit, and grab the gun you’ve affectionately nicknamed the Large Hadron Collider. It’s your favorite.

You don’t even have to fire at anything to get the noise to stop. You just have to bring it out and click the safety off, and all mouths are shut and eyes are on you. Totally worth the huge amount of energy you need to expend just to lift it.

“Alright, everyone,” you growl. (Literally growl. It’s one of the perks of being part werewolf.) First, you aim the gun at Eridan. His eyes go approximately the size of dinner plates, and to be honest you never get tired of that expression on his face, especially because it never goes away, no matter how many times he sees the LHC. “Eridan, get the water wand and douse those fires fucking immediately, or I will ban you from this store and then personally come to your house and break every magical item you own because you clearly cannot be trusted with them!” His eyes widen even more, and he gets moving immediately. You turn to the next biggest problem. “Damara, what have I told you about trying to kill the customers?”

Damara sits up, letting go of the customer’s neck. “Didn’t see you complaining when victim was hipster douchebag.” She jerks a thumb backwards at Eridan. You roll your eyes.

“Even then it wasn’t acceptable! You shouldn’t try to kill anyone in here! I mean, at least take it outside, _please_.” The person Damara was trying to strangle pokes up their head, and you groan as soon as you see the braids and piercings. “Meenah, you should know better than to antagonize her, too. How many times has this happened?” Feferi’s delinquent older sister opens her mouth to answer, but you cut her off. “Too many, that’s how many!” You glare at both of them and notice Feferi doing the same. Then you sigh and jerk your head. “Damara, get off of her.” Damara stands reluctantly, and Meenah follows. You notice that one of her earrings has been ripped off, taking a part of her ear with it, but strangely enough you can’t quite bring yourself to care. “And now, Meenah, get out of here. Go!”

She does, shoving a bewildered Jane aside and walking out the door, and you relax fractionally before turning back to Eridan, who has finally managed to put out all the fires. You start to tell him off for messing with the high-powered stuff again- it says don’t touch for a reason!- but Feferi seems to have gotten there before you and is now ripping him a new asshole. “If you can’t keep your hands off the merchandise, then you’re not welcome here, mister! You know this, and yet you insist that you know what you’re doing and blatantly disregard the rules of this establishment! You absolute-“ Fef takes a deep breath and calms down fractionally before speaking in a very quiet, very steady, very scary voice. “If you do this again, you won’t need to worry about Jade or Damara, because I’ll kill you myself.” Eridan’s face drains entirely of color, and he turns tail and is out the door. Finally, all the troublemakers that don’t pay to stay are out of your shop.

You drop the gun on the countertop with a clatter, sighing with relief as the weight leaves your arms. You love the LHC, but god, is it heavy! Then you raise your head and look at Jane, who still looks concerned. “Hi Jane! What can we help you with today?”

“Uh…” she hesitates slightly, looking around the shop, which is still scorched and smoking in some places, with broken parts and change from the cash register scattered across the floor. “Should I maybe come back at another time?”

“No!” Feferi jumps in, shaking her head. “Trust me, it looks bad, but we’ve definitely had worse. So, what are you here for?”

“Well…” Jane walks over to Feferi, and they begin talking to each other in quiet voices. Jane isn’t someone with weak magic, as Damara so callously described it, but her powers are far more like Feferi’s than yours. Like hers, they’re centered around living things, but while Fef is good at healing, Jane is better at knowing- she has the power to put her hand on someone, just touch them, and know where they’re hurting and how to fix it. So Fef is definitely the one best-suited to helping her, and it doesn’t hurt that they’re good friends, either. You might even be jealous by how close they are if Jane wasn’t your friend, too, and if you didn’t already know she’s been dating Roxy for at least the past year and a half. Feferi leads Jane into the back, still talking to her quietly, and you sigh and turns back to the shop, which really does look a total mess. Damara seems nonplussed, despite the fact that her hair has been mussed and there’s a tear in her white shirt, and she’s adopted her customary position: a casual lean against one of the shelves, positioned just right so she can survey the entire shop at once and let everyone know she’s not impressed. You look at her for a moment, then sigh and go around the counter to start cleaning up the wreck you made of the cash register.

You kneel down on the ground and start to pick the change and broken pieces of cash register up off the floor. The fact that you broke it is just one of the few things making you mad at yourself right now- if you hadn’t fallen asleep, maybe you could have stopped the fights from breaking out. You look up at Damara, then amend that statement in your head. You could have maybe stopped Eridan from setting things on fire and gotten Meenah and Damara to fight somewhere else. You honestly doubt you could have stopped Damara from getting into trouble in the first place. And you don’t think you’d want to! After all, you’re not her mother. She can make her bad decisions all on her own, and you won’t stop her. You’ll just get her to do it somewhere that isn’t your shop.

Absorbed in thought as you are, you don’t realize the pennies you’re following have moved closer and closer to Damara until your actually bump into her legs. She looks down on you, eyebrows raised, mouth perched in a nasty smile. “You want to look under my skirt? Could have asked.”

You shudder. “No, I definitely don’t want to! It was an accident, I’m sorry. I was just cleaning up everything.”

She cocks her head, smile dissolving into a more interested expression. Then, to your surprise, she kneels down next to you and starts picking up things as well. You stare at her for a moment. She lifts her head and looks back. “What?” she asks, voice flat enough to indicate that it’s not really a question. You shake your head and go back to your task. Between the two of you, the shop is cleaned up pretty quickly, except that you still have no cash register (you don’t know how it works so you can’t put it back together with your powers) and a few things are still sort of scorched.

You look around your shop and exhale slowly. You still stand by your thoughts earlier- the magic store you and Feferi run is the best and most comfortable there could be. However, the customers don’t fit that same criteria.

* * *

 

You might have been tired earlier in the afternoon, but that night you stay up late reading your books of prophecy. Most of them are nonsense- true seers are rare, though you suspect your friend Rose might be one- but they make for an interesting reading challenge, seeing as they’re all cloaked in a bunch of mystical bs that makes puzzling out what they’re trying to say sort of fun. So it’s 3 am before you finally turn out the light and get ready for bed. As you do, you see something out the window. You’re not quite sure what, but you can never be too safe, so you take a peek out into the alley. You can definitely see something moving out there- two person-shaped shadows, talking in the darkness. As you watch, one of them lights a cigarette. In the flash of flame, you clearly see black hair tied in a bun and a bored face. It’s Damara.

You can’t see who the other person is, but they leave quickly.


	2. Feferi

You see Jade’s light go out at around 3, but you stay up long past that, working on the spell you promised Jane- a spell to bring back Roxy’s cat, Frigglish, who died in an unfortunate accident today (or, uh, yesterday). It demands all sorts of precision from you, not to speak of caution, because these kinds of spells are difficult, dangerous, and technically illegal. That last part isn’t the biggest problem, though- every witch you’ve known has done a bit of necromancy at times. Even Jade does it sometimes to bring back any plants of hers that have died. But her version is much simpler; after all, plants are pretty simple for living creatures. Bringing back animals, though? That requires power, understanding, talent, and at least a little bit of luck. You have the first three, and as for the last part, well, the whole reason you’re doing all this work is to remove luck from the equation as much as possible. You wouldn’t be able to stand letting down two of your friends and customers! So when Damara comes home at 5 am, you’re still awake to hear her entrance.

To be fair, it’s not hard to hear her. Damara practically slams the door whenever she leaves or enters the apartment, and this time she follows that up with a bout of rapid, angry Japanese. You have no idea what she’s saying, but knowing her, it’s language that would make even the most hardened sailor blush. You call out to her. “Everything okay?”

There’s silence for a moment, then footsteps, then Damara appears in your doorway. She looks terrible- clothes wrinkled, hair halfway out of its bun, dark circles like bruises under her dark eyes. She smells strongly of cigarette smoke, enough so that you can smell it from where you’re sitting on your bed, halfway across the room. She leans her tall, lithe body against her doorframe and blinks at you, her face slack with exhaustion. “None of your fucking business. Keep big nose out.” Her accent is stronger than usual, which you put down to a lack of sleep. She looks you up and down slowly, taking in all the books and papers spread across your bed. “Go the fuck to sleep. Will not be working store tomorrow once you pass out.”

You snort. “Like anyone expects you to actually do any work around here any more.” She raises her eyebrows, looking surprised and a little amused, and you start to get a little bit pissed off. “And by the way, your opinion on what I’m doing is just as unwanted as mine on yours, so quit it.” You’re sorry you ever interacted with her in the first place.

Damara takes in your scowl, then laughs sleepily, a quiet rasp. “Understood, fish.” She turns to go, then looks over her shoulder back at you. “You may be more likeable than I thought.” Then she clomps down the hall towards her own room. You glare after her for a moment, then turn back to your work, yawning involuntarily and rubbing at your eyes to get the grit out. You really need to get this spell finished before sunrise so you can get at least a little sleep before having to go to work.

* * *

 

The next day is, as you sort of expected, terrible. You’re exhausted- you’re generally more of an early bird than a night owl, so last night’s late hours really messed with your system, and you’re running on caffeine and dedication to duty. Jade looks just as tired as you do, which makes sense, seeing as she’s usually even more of an early riser than you are. In contrast, Damara looks perfectly fine- almost immaculate, which is a huge change from her rumpled appearance last night. She’s the only one of you who seems actually ready to face the day, which is as surprising as it is annoying.

Jane told you the best time to come over to her house to work your magic would be around noon, so you decide to spend the time in-between then and now going over inventory one last time and finding some of the essentials you’d need to perform your spell. Except there’s one problem- some of it just isn’t there, and it’s only the rare and expensive stuff, like the ghost dust and the manifesting incense. This lack is made all the more conspicuous by the fact that they were there the last time you checked, which was just yesterday. You decide to ask Jade about it.

Poking your head into the main part of the shop, you look at Jade, who is sitting at the counter as usual. “Hey, did you move the necromancy stuff?” She looks at you, surprised.

“No, I definitely didn’t. Why do you ask?”

You shrug. “None of it is there any more.”

Jade’s eyebrows draw together, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Huh, that’s… really weird.”

“I know, right?”

Jade shakes her head. “I mean, it’s possible that something else could have happened- maybe it’s just somewhere you haven’t looked yet? It’s really easy to put something down and then forget where it is.”

You twist up your mouth awkwardly. “I guess it’s possible. Thanks anyways, Jade.” You start to go back into the storeroom when Jade calls after you.

“Hey, why do you need the necromancy stuff in the first place?”

You sigh and go back into the shop. “I’m helping someone out,” you say. Then you spot the horrified look on Jade’s face. “Oh no, don’t worry, it’s not people! I’d never do that.” Necromancy is technically illegal, like you said, and also like you said, tons of people do it anyways. But that’s only on entities below a certain consciousness and self-awareness level. Once you get past that point- trying to bring back, say, dolphins or chimpanzees (or people), it becomes much more difficult and extremely taboo, mostly because past that point it’s more likely that whatever or whoever you’re trying to bring back will turn out _wrong._ They come back empty, live but without their souls, like the result of a magical frontal lobotomy. And when they don’t, they come back with other damages. So the relief on Jade’s face when you clarify your intentions is completely understandable.

“Okay!” she says. “Well, just be careful, okay?”

You nod. “Of course. After all,” you give Jade a big smile, “I have to come back home to the shop eventually! I don’t think you’d be able to deal without me.” She sticks her tongue out at you, and you laugh before ducking back inside the storeroom to keep looking.

* * *

 

After you’ve carefully dug through all the piles of magical crap (excuse your language, but sometimes it’s true) that you and Jade have acquired over the years, you’ve determined that the necromancy equipment you’re looking for most definitely isn’t there. You sigh and sit back on your heels after going through the last few things, wiping the sweat off your brow. You feel gross, tired and sweaty and dirty from your work, but it’s not done yet. You check your watch- 11:30, so you have just enough time to gather up acceptable substitutes before heading over to Jane’s. Getting up off the floor slowly, you stretch, cracking your back, then go back to near the front, where you remember seeing the lavender last. Sure enough, there it is, a little packet of dried sprigs. Perfect. You grab it, set it aside, and then go looking for the other things- the special “water baths”, your summoning cloth, and a few other things. A mixture of salt, ground asphodel (sacred to Hades in Greek mythology, the plant symbolizing the underworld), and blessed thistle cut (a plant with powerful curative energies) is what you’re using instead of the ghost powder, and you substitute regular incense for the manifesting incense. It won’t be as powerful as you’d like, and the chance of failure will definitely be higher, but you think you can make it work. Check your watch again- 11:45. Quickly, you pack all your stuff into your bag and head out. You wave a quick goodbye to Jane, pass Damara on your way out- she’s in the reading corner, reading a trashy romance novel and laughing so hard you think she might cry- and go outside. You unchain your bike from the rack, strap on your helmet, and hop on, heading as quickly as you can towards Jane’s house.

You pull into the driveway of the house Jane and Roxy share at exactly 12:00, parking your bike right outside their garage door. Then you go up to the door and knock. Roxy opens the door a moment later. She looks terrible, her eyes red from crying, smudged makeup around her face, but she still makes an effort to smile weakly at you. “Hey, Feferi. Thanks for coming over.”

“No problem,” you say, smiling back even though your heart hurts with sympathy. Roxy steps aside, clearing the doorway, and you enter the house.

Roxy and Jane’s house is a cozy place, full of little knickknacks- mostly wizard figurines, courtesy of Roxy. Jane’s constant baking has filled the house with a permanent smell of yummy goodies, and the rooms are filled with a mishmash of comfy furniture and random objects (also courtesy of Roxy, most likely practicing with her powers, bringing objects into being). Today, though, there’s a gloom over the whole place, which isn’t surprising at all, considering the events of the past two days. You walk into the living room to find Jane sitting on the ground, holding a medium-sized blue-and-white plastic cooler, not unlike the ones suburban families take to picnics. You look at it, then at her. “He’s in there?”

Jane nods. “Our freezer wasn’t big enough for him.” She flips open the lid of the cooler and there, among bags of ice, is Frigglish’s body.

Roxy chokes back a sob, seeing him again. You pat her shoulder comfortingly, then sit down next to Jane to inspect the damage. Frigglish is mostly intact, except for his head, which is slightly squashed out of shape. The fur around it is matted with blood, and you frown. It’s going to be harder than you thought to reform the body for the spirit to re-enter, but you think you can do it. Carefully, you reach into the cooler and pull him out. Then you turn to Jane. “How did he die?”

Roxy sobs again and sits heavily on the floor next to Jane. Her girlfriend rubs her back comfortingly. “There was a bit of an accident.”

“I-it was my fa-a-ult,” Roxy says through her tears, her voice catching. Then she takes a deep breath and visibly composes herself. Her voice, when she speaks, is hoarse. “I- I was trying to, you know, make a book appear, but it was heavy, and fell on him, and, and now he’s-“ she drops off into crying again, and Jane leans in, making soothing noises to comfort her.

“Shh, it’s okay.” She turns to you, looking concerned. “So, can you help us?”

You nod. “Yeah. It might be difficult, but I think I can make it work.” Carefully, you pick up Frigglish’s body, cradling him in your arms. He’s heavier than you expected, but then, he is a rather chubby kitty. You set him on the floor in front of you, then get up and take the cloth with the summoning circle drawn on it and lay it on the floor. You pick up Frigglish and set him in the center of the circle, then turn back and bring out your things. You sprinkle the dried lavender across the outside edge of the circle, then bring out the incense and light it with your trusty lighter. You never go anywhere without your lighter- it’s so universally useful! You set the incense down on the floor and pick up your water bath. You unscrew the cap of the bottle, dip your index finger into the water and kneel next to the edge of the cloth, drawing sigils casually around the edge of the circle like finger-painting, careful to avoid messing with the lavender. You draw all around the borders, then stand, recap the bottle holding the bath, and wait for the first of the sigils to start drying. When it has dried completely, you quickly pick up the Ziploc baggie of salt powder from your bag, take a pinch of it, and with a flick of your wrist throw it into the air above the circle. Then you close your eyes and begin the spell.

Your spells almost never require spoken words, and this one is no exception. You are silent as you project outwards, focusing your soul into the space beyond the darkness of your closed eyes and feeling out for a presence. Sure enough, there’s something hovering in the space above the circle. As you feel around it mentally, it notices you, and in your mind you hear the shadow of a plaintive “meow”. It’s him.

Having located Frigglish’s spirit with your mind, you open your eyes and raise your hands up, cupping them in front of you as you might if you were trying to hold a liquid in your palms. You take a deep breath and call to your powers.

Generally, when you channel magic, it doesn’t feel like anything- it’s not enough energy for that. But this time, there’s a feeling like standing under a waterfall, energy cascading from above into your body. Concentrating hard, you pull some of this energy into Frigglish’s body, telling it what you want it to do- heal. There is a disturbing noise- something between a crack and a squish- as Frigglish’s head pops back into shape. You lower your hands slightly, and the heart starts beating again and lungs start breathing. Then you tilt your cupped hands forwards, pouring the rest of the magic into the circle. It forms an energy vortex above the body, pulling in the plane that Frigglish’s soul exists in right now and leading back into his body. With one last bit of effort, you give him the first tug that will lead his mind’s energy back to the plane of the living, and focus hard to see the result.

 The ghost of Roxy’s cat looks at you in that strange way that cats have, as if they’re a bit confused but still unimpressed, and then the vortex catches hold of him and he is pulled down to the physical plane. You shift your gaze back to the circle, then smile.

Frigglish’s eyes are open.

Roxy sees it immediately and squeals with joy. Before her pet is finished getting up, she’s run into the circle and picked him up, holding him close. She’s utterly scattered your lavender and wrinkled the summoning cloth, but that’s okay. You don’t mind helping clean up; it’s totally worth it for the look of sheer joy on Roxy’s face, and the relief and love on Jane’s as she steps up beside Roxy and gives Frigglish a scratch behind the ears.

Roxy turns to you, the tears in her eyes happy ones this time. “Thank you,” she says, her voice choked up and a smile lighting up her face. Frigglish struggles a little bit in her grasp, and she sets him down carefully. “How much do we owe you?”

You shake your head. “This was a favor, not a service you bought from me. I don’t expect any payment! At least,” you say, grinning mischievously, “not in the form of money. I could maybe spring for some cookies, though….” Jane laughs, noticing your unsubtle hint, and holds up a finger to indicate that you should wait for a second. She goes into her kitchen, and you smile after her. There really is no feeling better than that of a job well done.

* * *

 

You arrive back at the shop a few hours later, with a bag full of Jane’s delicious homemade cookies in your backpack. Everything looks relatively normal- you even have a few customers! One is Karkat, a pretty consistent customer, who is, as usual, looking at the relationship charms. (You don’t sell love potions, of course- the idea of using magic to coerce someone into loving you is completely disgusting to both you and Jade. What you do sell, however, are charms and small spells for protection of personal relations, which Karkat seems to need a lot of.) You give him a big smile, and he scowls at you a little. The others are Rose, checking out the scrying equipment, and Vriska, who is, as always, looking at good luck charms. Looking around, you can’t see Damara anywhere, which, as much as you hate to say it, might improve your business. You wave to Rose and Vriska and walk over to the counter, plunking your backpack down in front of Jade. “Guess what I got?”

Jade looks at the pack, then at you. “No idea. Tell me!” You give her a big smile and pull the bag of cookies out, setting it on the counter. Jade’s eyes go wide. “Are those Jane’s?” You nod, and she looks ecstatic. You don’t blame her- Jane’s cooking is practically legendary. She reaches for the bag, and you pull it back.

“Not so fast! I’m thinking we set up half of these on a plate out here, for some of our customers. The other half, of course,” you add, seeing the disappointment on Jade’s face, “are all for us.” You pause for a second. “And Damara, if she wants any.”

“Okay, sure!” Jade bobs her head in acknowledgement of your decree on baked goods. “Should I go get a plate, then?”

You nod. “Yeah, definitely. I’ll man the counter while you’re gone.” Jade slips out from behind the counter, and you take over, leaving the cookies on the counter and stowing your bag underneath it, with Jade’s gun.

Jade’s back a minute or so later, with a plate in hand. She plunks it down on the counter, and you take out ten cookies and set them down. Vriska’s there before everyone else, watching like a hawk, and as soon as you put the last cookie on the plate she grabs eight of them and walks off, not even buying anything. “Thanks, guys!” she calls as she somehow manages to open the door with her hands full of cookies. You watch her go, then shake your head.

Rose is next, heading over to the counter casually. She plunks down a scrying bowl, one of the nice ones, made of silver. You go to ring her up, then remember that the cash register is broken, and also that you’re terrible at math. Jade elbows you aside and takes the bowl, looking at the price tag on it. Then she turns back to Rose. “That’ll be 58.73 with tax!” Rose nods, takes out her wallet, pays for the bowl, and leaves. It’s only once she’s left that you notice that there’s only one cookie left on the plate now, and you frown after her.

Finally, Karkat comes up, grabbing the last cookie, shoving it into his mouth, and dropping a little protection charm onto the counter. “This one,” he says, with his mouth full. You cringe slightly.

Jade picks it up, gives him the price, and he pays, then leaves your shop. Finally, it’s empty except for you and Jade. This lasts for approximately two seconds before Damara enters through the door, the little bell above it dinging. “Hey,” you say, waving to her. Then, not looking at Jade, you take the bag of cookies out from under the counter. “Want one?”

Damara’s face is carefully bored as she looks at the bag of cookies, and then the corners of her mouth twitch up slightly. She walks forwards and holds a hand out. “All of them.”

Jade narrows her eyes at her. “You can have two.”

Damara shrugs. “Works for me. Hand them over.” You give her two cookies, then watch as she engages in a cookie-eating display that definitely does not belie her succubus legacy. It might even be worse than Karkat’s, because she seems to eat them whole, barely chewing. You and Jade stare, gaping, as she swallows down the last bit of cookie. Then she raises an eyebrow at you. “What?”

Jade shakes her head silently, and you can’t help it, you have to disguise a laugh as a cough. You can see that she’s not fooled for a moment, though. Damara rolls her eyes, then starts heading to the stairs that lead up to your apartment. Before she can get there, you remember you wanted to ask her something. “Hey!” you call after her. She stops and looks flatly over her shoulder at you. You pause, stammering a little. “Um… have you seen the necromancy stuff? It’s missing.” Her eyes widen for a moment, then she goes back to normal so quickly you’re not even really sure it happened. She shakes her head.

“No.” Then she’s up the stairs. You stare after her, listening to the clomping of her heels on the stairs all the way up.

“Okay, then.” And you turn back to Jade. “Want to eat the rest of the cookies?” She smiles, and it lights up her face.

“I thought you’d never ask.”


	3. Jade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOO NEW CHAPTER! AFTER MORE THAN A YEAR! GUESS WHO'S DOING NANOWRIMO AND REALLY WANTED TO FINISH THIS FIC! WOOOOOOO!!! 
> 
> This chapter's a little (read: a ton) darker than the others, and things are kinda starting to kick into gear. I'm having fun, so I hope you guys will too! Hopefully my writing style hasn't changed so much that it's unrecognizable.

As much as you hate to admit it, things around the shop sometimes blur together, hours turning into days into weeks before you even really realize it. You’re not really good at keeping track of time, either— you’re just as spatially-oriented in your daily life as you are in your magic, much less temporally so— so you couldn’t say how many days it is between the day Feferi brought Frigglish back from the dead and the day of the first murder. 

What you could say— what you knew for a fact— was that it happened on the night of the full moon.

You’re not a full werewolf; one of your genetic parents (though god knows which, since they abandoned you and your twin brother so young) was one, and since you were born just as the moon was setting you inherited the lycanthropy even though John didn’t. The haphazard expression of your lycanthropic genes left you with a pair of fluffy ears perched high atop your head, a heightened sense of smell and hearing, and some other canine-like traits. And even though you don’t transform completely during the full moon, you can sometimes feel the wolf stirring inside you.

When you wake up with a start in the dark that night there’s moonlight shining through your open window, leaving a puddle of silver on your hardwood floor, and your room is full of the cold, pure scent of night air. You take a deep breath and blink the sleep out of your eyes, your vision clearing slowly. The world’s colors have shifted, going greyer.  _ Oh, _ you think, remembering.  _ Right. I forgot. _

With extreme reluctance you slide the covers off, then get out and pad over to the window, shivering in the cold. You hesitate for a moment before you close the curtains, looking up at the sky. The moon shines in it like a silver coin, and you feel a sudden urge to howl at it. You shudder and go to swish the curtains closed before you can indulge, but right before you can close them you catch a whiff of something coppery, metallic under the other scents of the night air. You freeze.

_ Why does it smell like blood outside? _

Once you notice the smell you realize that was what woke you up, the scent of blood clinging to your nostrils and drawing you out of your indistinct dreams. You bite your lip, wondering where it’s coming from. It could just be from an animal— after all, Nepeta and her sister live right across the street, and Pounce de Leon is a famous mouser. You definitely don’t want to raise any alarms just for a cat. But on the other hand…

You sigh, then walk over to your closet and tug on your warmest coat. You couldn’t live with yourself if you ignored this and someone turned out to be hurt or worse.

You pull your shoes on, then stand up, starting to maneuver out of the house as quietly as you can. Feferi and Damara’s lights are both off, and you don’t want to wake either of them. You take a soundless step—

Damara’s door swings open to reveal her standing in the doorway, wearing what passes for pajamas on her: an oversized black shirt that hangs halfway down her thighs with glittering text across the front that reads “I’D RATHER BE TITS OUT” and seemingly nothing else. Her legs look smooth and strong, and you very deliberately try to un-notice the fact that you noticed. Damara stares at you, taking in your clothing for a long moment and blinking slowly. “Where are you going?” she asks.

You hesitate for a moment, debating about whether or not to tell her. You don’t want to be alone if someone is hurt, but this is  _ Damara,  _ and if you’re making a big deal about nothing she’ll be sure to rub it in your face. But your silence goes on a little bit too long, and she snorts and reaches out to shut the door. The part of your brain that doesn’t want to be alone overrides the part that doesn’t want to be ridiculed, and you hold out a hand in a  _ stop  _ gesture. “Wait,” you say. “I… I woke up and thought I—”  _ smelled something? No.  _ “--heard something outside, moving around. I just want to go check to see what it was.” You take a deep breath. “Will you come with me?”

There’s a long pause, then Damara tips her head to the side. The ghost of a smile shows on her mouth. “Scared?” she asks.

“Of course not,” you lie, knowing that you’re being extremely unconvincing even as you do it. “It’s just that if someone’s hurt out there—”

Damara cuts you off, disappearing back into her room and shutting the door. You stare after her, then roll your eyes in disgust and go to leave Before you can go the door opens again and Damara steps out, now wearing shoes. “Lead the way,” she says. 

You glance at her, noticing her legs are still bare. “Uh. Aren’t you gonna, you know, put on some pants? It's cold out.”

Damara rolls her eyes and raises her arms above her head, revealing a pair of shorts she’s wearing under the shirt. “Cold is no problem. And I am wearing pants.” A wicked smile spreads across her face. “If you like, can take them off.”

“I’m good, thanks.” You turn away and walk towards the door, leaving the apartment. Damara follows just behind you, her steps surprisingly quiet compared to her usual stomping. If you didn’t know she was there, and if you didn’t have such acute hearing, you doubt you’d have heard her at all. The two of you walk downstairs, then leave the building, exiting into the dark.

The combination of yellow streetlamps and silver moonlight makes it easy to see, and adding in your fairly good night vision means the world is almost as clear at night as it is in the daytime. It’s silent outside, uncharacteristically so. On the breeze you catch another whiff of blood.

Without really thinking about it, you shrink back closer to Damara, your arm just barely brushing hers. Out of the corner of your eye you can see goosebumps standing out on her skin, and you feel her suppress a shiver.  _ She must be freezing. _

Damara looks at you, her eyes flat. “Well?” she asks. “Said you heard something, so lead the way. Or can I go back to sleep?”

You shake your head. “Hang on just a second.” You pause, sniffing the air, then turn and walk down the alley that leads towards the back of the shop. After a split second pause Damara hurries after you. It’s darker in the alley, but you can still see pretty well, and the smell of blood gets stronger and stronger as you go down. Towards the end it’s almost overpowering, a wet, coppery stench that seems to stick to the inside of your nostrils and drowns out any other smells, and you bury your nose and mouth into the collar of your coat to try to filter it out. You see Damara wrinkle her nose and realize that you’re not the only one smelling it anymore. 

“Do you see anyone?” you turn and ask her, your voice muffled by the coat. “I could have sworn—” A glint of light from over her right shoulder catches your eye, and you cut yourself off, then push past her towards it. She makes an indignant noise as you do, but the thumping of your own heart in your ears drowns it out as you move closer to the shining thing. It’s resting next to a pile of abandoned garbage bags covered by a tarp (and in the back of your mind you wonder who put those there, you and Feferi would never stand for dumping trash like this). You lean down and pick it up, turning it over in your hand to get a better look at it. When you do, you freeze. 

It’s a protection charm. A protection charm you recognize, in fact. One you personally made and sold just a few days ago.

Damara comes up behind you and looks over your shoulder at the charm in your hand, and you hear her inhale sharply. “Oh,” she says, quietly. “Oh, fuck.” 

You pocket the charm and move over to the tarp, suddenly feeling as if your world is going in slow-motion, like you’re moving through molasses. You grab the edge and pull it back, and the smell of blood increases a thousandfold. When you see what’s under it, your knees buckle, sending you to the ground. You gag, retching onto the alley floor. Damara doesn’t move, just stands there next to you, not saying anything.  

She’s almost as silent and still as what’s left of Karkat Vantas.

* * *

 

After a while of you vomiting and crying in the alleyway with Damara next to you, the light in the alley starts to change. The smell of rain joins the miasma of blood and guts as a few drops patter down, and there’s a _ crack _ as lightning forks across the sky. You count the seconds automatically between when the lightning struck and when you heard the thunder—  _ one, two, three, four.  _ Four miles away. 

The sound of thunder seems to startle Damara out of whatever shock she’s in, catalyzing her. She leans down and gently picks up the tarp, then drags it back over Karkat’s body, covering him and protecting him from the elements. She turns to you, holding her hand out. “Come on,” she says, her voice surprisingly gentle. You hesitate, and just like that her softness is gone. She scowls and grabs your arm, hauling you up to a standing position. “Get up,  _ bitch. _ You are not dead like the crabby one. Stop acting like it.”

You snap out of it a little as she grabs you, enough to yank your arm out of her grasp and stumble away. “Don’t touch me,” you manage, your voice hoarse. “Just— just don’t.” 

Damara snorts. “Whatever.” Then she turns to go back inside. 

This time you grab her, pulling her back. The rain starts falling faster, cold drops running over your face and through your hair. “Wait,” you say. “We can’t just leave him here.”

Damara looks at you like you’re stupid, which is a bit of a relief in how familiar an expression it is on her face. “Staying out will not bring him back,” she says, her voice expressionless. She jerks her thumb back towards the house. “But inside has phones. We can call your scaly cop friend.” 

“I thought you hated Terezi.”

“Yes. But…” She shrugs one shoulder. “Is there a choice? Plus, can’t stay here.” She looks down at herself, and you realize that her thin t-shirt is in the process of getting soaked. “This is not the kind of wet I like being.” 

You don’t react to her ill-timed joke, instead pausing for a minute. She’s right, there’s no point in staying out, and you’d have to call Terezi sooner or later. She’s basically the entire police department in your tiny town. “Okay,” you say, quietly. You take a deep breath, and you and Damara start walking back inside. 

You two pass through the empty shop, then start heading up the stairs towards the apartment. Your legs feel shaky, your body oddly off-balanced. Damara moves with grace, but her face is serious, and none of her usual vaguely malicious glee shines in her eyes. When you get to the top of the stairs you hesitate. “What do we tell Feferi?”

Damara looks at you. “You mean, what do you tell fish?” 

“No, Damara, I mean  _ we.  _ What do  _ we _ tell Feferi?”

Damara shrugs one shoulder. “The truth. You heard something, I heard you, looked and found crabby boy gutted.” She opens the door. “You have nothing to hide. So. We go in, I get fish, you make call to your half-dragon bitch friend.” Then she walks in, her steps markedly louder than they had been when you had both exited. You follow, quieter, flipping on the lights as you do. Damara disappears down the hallway towards Feferi’s room, and you call Terezi Pyrope’s residence.

The phone only rings twice before she picks it up, her harsh voice grating even more than usual. She sounds amused rather than exhausted, though. “Miss Blueberry, is there a reason you’re calling here for the fourth time? Want your panties back, maybe?”

_ Miss Blueberry?  _ You’re confused for a second, but then you remember Vriska, and her and Terezi’s on-again-off-again romance. On again, apparently. Normally you’d laugh, but Karkat’s terrified, bloodstained face flashes in your vision before you can. You clear your throat. “Uh. Terezi, it’s me. Jade. I… There’s been a murder outside the shop. Can you come over?”

There’s a brief pause, and when Terezi speaks again she’s all business. “Give me ten minutes.” Then she hangs up, and you’re left holding a dead phone just in time to hear Feferi yell “WHAT?!” at the top of her lungs. There’s a series of fast footsteps, and then she barrels out of her room at high speed and practically tackles you in a hug. Her arms are warm wrapped around you, and you hug her back. Emotions well to the surface as you start crying again. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your face pressed into her hair. “Sorry, sorry, sorry—“

Feferi pulls back, her eyes wide. “Sorry?  _ Sorry?  _ I— Jade, I’m just glad you’re not hurt. Or dead, like Karkat! I mean, going out there… something really bad could have happened to you.”

You sniff, wiping at your eyes. “I know, I know. But I can take care of myself, and Damara was with me. Right?” You look over Feferi’s shoulder at Damara, who is standing in the doorway. You can’t really tell through your tear-blurred vision, but her eyes look narrowed, like she’s annoyed with you both for some reason. 

“Right,” she says, after a long silence during which her stare seems to drill a hole through your skull. Then she sighs, looking away. “Am going to sleep. Call me if needed.”

“Damara, wait,” Feferi starts, but Damara’s already down the hallway. You see Feferi wince. “...I should have said something to her.”

You carefully disentangle yourself from Feferi’s arms. “Yeah, well… you can let her know that you’re glad she isn’t dead in the morning.” You hesitate. “In the meantime, will you sit with me until Terezi comes? I don’t really want to be alone.” 

Feferi nods. “No problem.” 

You move and sit down on the sofa, and she sits next to you, not touching you. After a moment you move closer and lean against her, and she reaches out and holds you as sirens start coming down the street. The full moon shines through the clouds and your window like an eye staring down at you, and a shiver runs down your spine. For a moment you think you see something shifting and swirling in the patterns of clouds around it— a hand reaching out, a pair of lacquered lips opening to shout something— but when you blink it all disappears. 


End file.
